


give me love (like never before)

by emmaofmisthaven



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Neverland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 08:17:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaofmisthaven/pseuds/emmaofmisthaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Mate?” Killian asks after a while. Busy reading and drinking his coffee, David only hums in acknowledgment. “Can I ask you something?” Another hum. “How did you know? That what you have with Her Grace is true love?”<br/>David chokes on his coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	give me love (like never before)

David does a double take as he enters the sheriff department, and Killian’s lips can only curl in a grin at his bewilderment. Slowly, he takes off his coat and puts it on the back of his chair, as he keeps staring at the pirate with a small frown. “Do I want to know?” he finally asks.

“Not really, no.” Killian leans against the door of his cell, arms hanging between the bars with a sense of familiarity he could do without. “Your daughter is a fiery thing, Dave.”

“Don’t I know it,” he replies in a sigh, sitting at his desk. Killian always had a hunch but it is now clear that Emma takes after her mother when it comes to her temper. And it doesn’t get any better with time, according to David’s reaction. Killian represses a smile of his own, rubbing his face with his good hand, because _damn_ what did he get himself into. He does indeed sigh when David starts reading the newspaper as if everything was normal, as if his daughter’s… _something_ wasn’t held in a cage in front of him. But a sly smile finally curls his lips as he glances at Killian. “Okay, spill the beans.”

“Nothing of importance,” he replies, as casual as humanly possible. “We had a fight and she used the ‘don’t insult an agent of the law’ card. Which was out of proportion, if you want my opinion.”

“What did you say?”

“I called her ‘the Savior’. Unironically.”

David only raises an eyebrow, obviously amused, then goes back to his reading. It’s frustrating at best, and Killian lets go of the bars to lie down on his bunk, arms fold under his head. For a while, only the crunching noise of David turning the pages of his newspaper breaks the silence of the room and it vaguely occurs to Killian that the prince could very well set him free. The fact he doesn’t lift a finger tells a lot about his relationship with his daughter – and with his daughter’s suitor, for all it matters. Fair enough.

“Mate?” Killian asks after a while. Busy reading and drinking his coffee, David only hums in acknowledgment. “Can I ask you something?” Another hum. “How did you know? That what you have with Her Grace is true love?”

David chokes on his coffee. When the coughs don’t stop, Killian raises on his elbows to check on him – red in the face, eyes wide, punching his chest to breath properly again. Killian waits to be sure he won’t be accused of regicide before he lies back down to avoid David’s gaze. The prince settles for folding his newspaper, slowly, deliberately, the noise making Killian cringe – or maybe it’s the thought that Prince Charming could decide to kill him anytime soon. Instead, he goes for a reply, on a tone maybe too casual. “You just… know, I guess.”

_Thanks, mate. Not helping._

“Like, when you see her for the first time or…?”

If so, he’s doomed, because he can’t for the life of him remember what his first thoughts about Emma were, too focused on his mission with Cora back then. But he does know that he didn’t have an epiphany when his eyes met hers, so love at first sight is out of the question.

David’s snort startles him. “God no.” He has another little laugh, probably sharing a private joke with himself, and Killian is almost tempted to ask if he wants some time alone. Only he wants to _know_ and nobody but the prince can provide him the answers he needs. “Snow and I met as enemies. She told me right away she didn’t believe in true love. Yet here we are…”

“Enemies?”

Another laugh. “She stole from me.”

Killian’s eyes widen, too shocked for words at first, then his laugh mixes with David’s. “So you Charmings _do_ have a type. Interesting.” Something lands against the wall above his head, thrown with acute precision, and Killian is about sure the prince tried to kill him with a pencil. It doesn’t stop him from laughing, though, even if he goes back to silence after a few seconds.

“Do you think Emma is your true love?”

“Will you throw a chair at me if I say yes?”

“Probably not,” David replies with a sigh. Silence falls again between them, heavier this time, all the implications of their conversation floating in the air. It almost makes it harder to breathe, a weight on his shoulders and on his heart. He shouldn’t have talked about it, it was foolish. Now David is going to tell Snow, and everyone knows how good the princess is with secrets. The last thing he wants is for Emma to know, for Emma to freak out at the mere idea he’s even considering it a possibility. He’s doomed. “True love is final, you know,” David goes on. “It’s knowing that whatever happens, you will never fall out of love with them. You’re in this for life. It’s hard work and you have to fight for it… But at the end of the day, it’s worth it. You stop questioning what you’d do for them, because you’d basically do anything.”

“Like sailing your boat to a land of nightmares for her son.”

“Something like that, yes.” David goes back to his newspaper, as to tell him the conversation is done. It’s more than fine with him. “Now would be the perfect moment for a ‘break her heart and I’ll break your ankles’. But we both know it won’t happen so…”

“Thanks, mate.” They also both know his thanks are for more than the non-warning. “So while we’re at it, can I officially ask you for her –” The end of his sentence ends in a yelp of surprise as the pencil cup crashes in a loud noise against the bars of the cell.

They spend one more hour like that – David reading some files and Killian deep in his thoughts – before Emma arrives from her early morning with Henry. Killian jumps to his feet immediately, back to leaning against the bars, grinning at her like a fool. She stops in her tracks, squinting her eyes at him. “What are you still doing here?”

His grin grows bigger. “Well, hello to you too, love.”

“Why are you still here. You could have escaped. Why didn’t you escape?”

“Ah. Yes. _The pirate thing_.”

Her mouth twitches a bit, even if she’s trying to keep her composure. With a sigh and a roll of the eyes, she takes the bunch of keys to set him free. Even with the door opened in front of him, he lingers in the cell a little while longer, his eyes never leaving her face. Like he’s looking for answers tattooed on her skin, like it will finally all make sense. But nothing happens, nothing shifts within him and he wants to sight, wants to take David’s pencil cup and throw it as hard as he can against the opposite wall because damn him and damn that bloody true love. He’s a grown-up man, not a wooing teenager, he doesn’t need a vague mystery of a concept to be in a stable relationship with the woman he loves. They don’t need that kind of pressure above their heads when everything is complicated enough already, thank you very much.

But still…

Still, Emma smiles at him before pulling him into a hug, breathing him in, obviously no longer angry. She holds on to him, squeezing tight, and sighs against the skin of his neck. (He knows the reason she’s not kissing him sits at a desk behind her and watches them carefully.) So he hugs her back and kisses the top of her head, eyes close, her perfume tickling his nose. He’s not exactly sure it’s true love, but when she holds on to him like her life depends of it, it’s more than enough. And maybe it is true love, maybe what they have is special. It doesn’t change what he feels about her, doesn’t change the fact that he wants to spend every day of his life with her.

“By the way…” Killian can’t help the glare he offers David because _seriously mate?_ The other man doesn’t seem bothered. “Why did you call Snow ‘Her Grace’? Earlier, before Emma arrived.”

“Well you’re not the royals I rebelled against so some respect is required.”

“You never call Regina by her title,” Emma chimes in, and ain’t she the clever type.

“She’s not my queen.”

Still in his arms, she looks up at him, confusion on her face. But it’s David’s eyes that Killian’s meets, David’s smile that he notices. The prince nods his head, once, at the meaning between Killian’s words. “Well played”, he mouths, and the pirate wonders if it’s yet another way to give his blessing.


End file.
